


improbable and oh so lovely

by astrogyaru



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Carlos is Autistic, Cecil Is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, POV Carlos (Welcome to Night Vale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4161570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrogyaru/pseuds/astrogyaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos talks about love. Scientifically, of course.</p>
<p>Words are hard though, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	improbable and oh so lovely

“What does love feel like?”

“Um, excuse me?”

“You know, scientifically.”

“Oh.”

Carlos feels a bead of sweat roll down his neck; it’s not that hot in the lab, but being put on the spot by a coworker made the air feel one hundred degrees. Carlos mentally kicks himself for thinking that thought.  _Fahrenheit_ , ugh.

In scientific terms the air feels thirty seven point seven, seven, seven, seven (onward) seven, seven. The number floats about in his head, and he’s almost forgotten that Rochelle had asked him a question.

Cecil is on the other side of the room, sitting on a stool near Dave and another scientist, drawing up things (totally not) in chalk at their request. How long has it been since Cecil had been in the lab with them, Carlos wonders.

“It’s a disaster of chemicals and electricity,” he says suddenly, smiling absently as he watches Cecil drag his hand down the chalkboard, lines following his movement, flowing, creating.

“Doesn’t sound like much fun,” says Rochelle, shifting from one foot to another.

Carlos looks back at her, vaguely at her face, not her eyes because  _eye contact, gross_. 

“Do you listen to his show?”

Rochelle tilts her head, confused. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“Then you know how he talks about disasters, then.” He pauses. “How, after it’s over, there’s something so beautiful. There’s meaning…and…” Carlos trails off, eyes back on Cecil. He smiles at him from across the room, and Carlos smiles back.

“No, disaster isn’t the right word,” he mutters to himself. “Storm, maybe? A whirlpool, a… uh–” Carlos stops himself when he sees Rochelle grinning at him.

“Jesus, you are so gay sometimes,” she says with a laugh. “And none of those words are right, you’re making it seem like a bad thing.”

“I– I’m not trying to!” Carlos says defensively. “Love is a good thing. It’s a very, very good thing. I’m just saying, sometimes it can be scary, and hard… and, you’re right, sorry.” Carlos shoves his hands into the pockets of his lab coat, the smooth fabric soothing rough and science-worn hands.

“What are you two talking about over here?” Cecil says cheerfully, suddenly right at their side, hands clasped behind his back, posture showing interest. Carlos jumps.

“Carlos is being gay and saying love is like a storm or some shit,” Rochelle answers casually.

Cecil swells with emotion. “Oh, a storm! Very romantic. And scientific! A glorious push and pull of energy that regenerates the dry soil and wipes clean this dusty desert town. The wind whipping this way and that, seeds taking to the breeze only to land somewhere completely different, somewhere new and quiet, peaceful, where they will sprout and grow.” His hands move with his mouth, sweeping and dramatic.

Carlos looks up at Cecil, feeling something tight in his chest. Unscientifically speaking, he feels his heartstrings being pulled. He’s not sure if he understands what Cecil is saying, or if it even makes sense, but Cecil beams at him, and Carlos gives him a small smile, face hot with nervous blood.

“Oh my god,” Rochelle says, face buried into her hands. “You guys are fuckin’ cuties, I can’t deal with this.” She leaves them to join the other scientists, both men now feeling quite alone in a room full of people.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos says, eyes glued to his feet.

“Hmm?”

“I– I’m not very good at words. Rochelle said I made love seem like a bad thing, but I didn’t mean to–”

“I know what you meant,” Cecil interrupts with a warm smile.

“But you didn’t even hear what I said–”

“I know what you meant,” Cecil repeats.

Carlos sighs. “I love you, Cecil. I love being in love with you.”

Cecil smiles wide, eyes crinkling at the corners, a small laugh coming out his nose.

“I love you too.  _So_  much.” Cecil leans down and kisses him softly.

Rochelle teases them from the other side of the lab, and another scientist coos at them dramatically. Carlos puts on his Serious Face and tells them to get back to work, taking it off when he turns to Cecil and gives him another kiss.

No, not a storm, he thinks, but soft rain in the desert after a dry spell, cool wind blowing on a hot day, wildflowers growing in the cracks of concrete. Something gentle, improbable and oh so lovely.

Carlos hopes he can find the words, the right scientific words, to describe this. Maybe write a report, if he can gather enough data. He starts by stealing another kiss and calculating his heartbeat.


End file.
